With a lively, spirited animation style and equally energetic stories, clearly this Superman has been inspired by Christopher Reeve's 1978 film rather than the Zach Snyder, neck-snapping, dark, brooding take on Kal-El. For those of us who grew up on the Richard Donner movies, this is refreshing. In the age of so many superheroes embodying the Bruce Wayne-style tortured soul persona, this serves as a refreshing departure -- or perhaps a return to a more hopeful form.
Nothing demonstrates this better than the opening scene of the first episode: Clark struggles to get a kite from a tree. Simple enough setup. We expect him to realize he can fly. But not quite. At that moment, a distracted mother drives by with her child in the backseat, hits a pothole, and careens out of control. Something snaps in Clark. He speeds to the rescue, stopping the car inches from a tree. It's a simple yet profound scene: Clark seeks no recognition and acts out of selflessness. Hurrah!
The relationship among Clark, Lois Lane, and Jimmy Olsen further illustrates the filmmakers' joyful take: in their first chance encounter, Clark is smitten by Lois. His nervous clumsiness is funny and sweet, harkening back to the 1978 Superman film.
In addition, the characters traverse satisfying, well-earned arcs. Lois, in pursuit of a scoop, is less than truthful to her new friends. Clark, the embodiment of truth, justice, and the American way, resents this, and leaves her and Jimmy to continue the leads on their own. Later, the roles reverse, with Clark hiding his identity from them.
Also refreshing: this is not a deconstruction of Superman, rather a "reconstruction": in an age where heroes are few in real life, and the world slips daily into further darkness, there should be a place for an optimistic, bright contrast. This does not negate Zach Snyder's universe, but represents an alternate one. And in the age of the multiverse, there is room for both.
Nothing demonstrates this better than the opening scene of the first episode: Clark struggles to get a kite from a tree. Simple enough setup. We expect him to realize he can fly. But not quite. At that moment, a distracted mother drives by with her child in the backseat, hits a pothole, and careens out of control. Something snaps in Clark. He speeds to the rescue, stopping the car inches from a tree. It's a simple yet profound scene: Clark seeks no recognition and acts out of selflessness. Hurrah!
The relationship among Clark, Lois Lane, and Jimmy Olsen further illustrates the filmmakers' joyful take: in their first chance encounter, Clark is smitten by Lois. His nervous clumsiness is funny and sweet, harkening back to the 1978 Superman film.
In addition, the characters traverse satisfying, well-earned arcs. Lois, in pursuit of a scoop, is less than truthful to her new friends. Clark, the embodiment of truth, justice, and the American way, resents this, and leaves her and Jimmy to continue the leads on their own. Later, the roles reverse, with Clark hiding his identity from them.
Also refreshing: this is not a deconstruction of Superman, rather a "reconstruction": in an age where heroes are few in real life, and the world slips daily into further darkness, there should be a place for an optimistic, bright contrast. This does not negate Zach Snyder's universe, but represents an alternate one. And in the age of the multiverse, there is room for both.